The Tested
by TurtleInTreble
Summary: Dean and Sam are investigating a string of missing people, some of whom have been turning up with their organs gone. The boys need to stop the killings, but time is of the essence when Sam disappears. Takes place about a month or two after Sam leaves Stanford.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is my first fanfic, so be gentle! Please review and tell me if something is completely out of wack or something like that. I don't know how _how_ often I'll be able to update this, but I'll try to do it frequently.**

0-0-0-0-0

"Sam. Saaam." Dean threw his burger wrapper over at his younger brother who was sleeping in the passenger seat of the Impala.

Sam started and looked around, confused. "Where are we?"

"Mobile, Alabama, remember?" Dean turned down the radio. "People in their late teens to early twenties have been going missing in large numbers. About one every three days."

"And this is our kind of case, whyyy?" Sam groaned, throwing Dean's wrapper back at him.

"Because, most of them reappear about three days later on the side of the road with their chests cut open and most major organs missing. And while the chests were cut open practically surgically, the organs looked like they'd been clawed out by animals." Dean explained, not looking away from the road.

"Most major organs?" Sam asked, wiping a bit of drool off of his chin.

"Yeah. Lungs, stomach, you name it. But they never took the heart. It was always left sitting there, alone."

"So what's the plan?" Sam asked.

"I figure we'll check into a motel, stop by the police station and introduce ourselves, then go talk to the latest victim's family. See where he was last seen, yada yada, details, and I figure we can go it by ear from then on."

"Latest victim?" Sam was still trying to blink the last remains of sleep out of his eyes.

"Uh, yeah." Dean stuck his hand in the backseat and rummaged around for a second. "Here." He tossed a packet of papers into Sam's lap. "I printed these up at the bunker."

"List of victims?" Sam thumbed through the large stack of papers.

"Yeah. I figured it might make it easier to keep track of them. The papers pinned together at the back are the one's that haven't shown back up." Dean explained absently.

"Look at you." Sam chuckled. "All organized. Did you make a new years resolution or something?"

"Hey," Dean grimaced with annoyance. "It is never too late to get your life in order, be that literally or not."

"Whatever." Sam snickered.

0-0-0-0-0

Dean knocked on the door, Sam close behind him. The door slowly eased open and a woman peered around the edge.

"Can I help you?" She asked shakily as she took in the two men's suits.

"Yeah, hi, I'm Agent Burke, this is Agent Adams. We're here investigating the death of your son, Mike Lister. May we come in?"

"Oh." The woman blinked. "Uh, yeah, sure." She stepped back from the door, opening it wider so the boys could come in. They followed her to the living room, where she shakily settled down on the couch. "What do you want to know?"

"Tell us exactly what your son did on the day he went missing." Sam requested with a soft smile.

The woman took a deep breath. "Well, it was his birthday. He'd just turned eighteen, so I said he could go out with some friends. You know...to a bar. He promised he wouldn't drink." She added quickly. "There was this band playing that night that he wanted to go see. He came home that night and went straight up to bed." She sniffled.

"About 3 AM, I heard loud noises from his room. It sounded like a fight, so I went up to see what was wrong. By the time I got there, the room was torn up and Mike was gone." Tears began to fall in streaks down the woman's face. "That was three days ago."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Lister. We're doing everything we can to find your son." Sam rested a hand on the now sobbing woman's shoulder.

Suddenly the phone Dean was using for his Agent alter-ego began to ring. "If you'll excuse me." He stood and went out onto the front porch. "This is Burke."

"Agent Burke, this is the sheriff, I thought I should call you to give you the latest on the case." The sheriff said stiffly.

"What's happened?"

"Some patrols just found another body. The Lister boy. Chest cut up just like the rest of them." The sheriff explained.

"Shit." Dean groaned. "I'm at his mother's house now. Do you need me to tell her?"

"I think that may be best." The sheriff answered quietly.

"Ok. Call me if anything else comes up." Dean sighed, then hung up the phone. He took a deep breath and went back into the house.

"I'm back." Sam looked up at his entrance.

"Can I speak to you in the hall?" Dean asked. Sam looked at Dean oddly for a moment, then nodded and followed his brother with a sympathetic look to Ms. Lister.

"Mrs. Lister gave me the name of the bar Mike went to. I figured we can go there next. We can go get changed first...Hey what's wrong?" Sam rambled before noticing his brother's face.

"They just found Mike's body." Dean said quietly. "He's dead, just like the rest of them."

The light in Sam's eyes died. "Do we need to tell her?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

0-0-0-0-0

A couple of hours later, Dean and Sam were pulling into the parking lot of the bar Mike had spent his last free night in. They had told his mother he was dead, and been met by subsequential sobbing. They had excused themselves not long after and practically fled from the house. They went to the motel and changed out of their suits so they wouldn't be noticed in the bar.

"Really?" Dean asked as he looked up at the dingy neon sign over the brick building. "The Last Stop?"

"That's where she said he went." Sam grimaced.

"How much more 'If you come here you'll probably die' can the name be?" Dean shook his head. "Do you know if any of the other victims were last here?"

"Yeah. I made a couple of calls while you were showering. At least two thirds of the victims had been here in the last five days before they went missing, but that isn't surprising because apparently it's a pretty popular place." Sam said.

"Why?" Dean asked as they entered the bar. "This place is nasty." The bar had a small stage at one end where a band was struggling to play a song. Some people were dancing in front of the stage, and others were either sitting in chairs around small tables with little amounts of food, and others were slumped over at the bar. There were lots of other people just milling around talking, making it hard to hear.

A girl who looked about twenty appeared in front of them. "Can I help you?" She had on a button down that was only buttoned for the lower half and a skirt so short that it could be called a belt. She was about 5'9", but four of those inches were from her shoes. Her nametag read Angie.

"Yes." Dean said with a devilish grin. "You most certainly can."

Angie looked him up and down, then turned to Sam. "Just sit at any of the tables that are empty, some one will be along to serve you soon. Try to keep your friend in his pants." Sam blushed and nodded. Angie disappeared into the crowd.

"Come on, Dean." Sam pushed his way through a group of people, muttering apologies as he bumped into them. He saw a table and began to make his way to it, but he accidentally bumped into a man in a suit.

"Sorry," he said, trying to keep moving.

The man grabbed his arm and smiled. There was a girl standing beside him that Sam's eyes were drawn to. She was wearing a low cut long sleeve shirt and extremely short shorts. Like every other girl there, she had on impossibly high heels. Sam met her soft green eyes just before her light brown hair fell over them.

"Is there a problem here?" Dean asked, entering the occurrence.

"No." The man drawled. "No problem, sir." He let go off Sam, then disappeared, pulling the girl with him. Sam watched them disappear.

"Sam." Dean put a hand on his shoulder. "Keep moving."

Sam's eyes snapped to Dean's face, and then nodded. "Yeah, Ok."

0-0-0-0-0

Nothing happened at the bar. Sam and Dean stayed till long after midnight and watched the crowd of people thinning, but nothing happened.

"You wanna head back to the motel?" Dean asked Sam.

Sam sighed. "Yeah, I guess so." He stood. "Are you coming?"

Dean smiled deviously. "Nah, I think I want to see if that Angie's shift is over soon."

Sam shook his head at his brother, then made his way to the front of the bar. He pushed through the door into the cool night air. The Impala was waiting in the back corner of the parking lot under a dim street light. Before he got five steps away from the bar however, a hand grabbed him and pulled him to the side of the wall in the dark.

He prepared to fight, but to his surprise it was just the girl who'd been with the man from before. She looked young, her hair tumbling all around her face.

"What do you want?" Sam asked slightly roughly, pulling out of her grasp.

"You need to run." The girl said anxiously with wide eyes darting around.

"What?" Sam looked confused.

"Go. Get out of town. Now." She gave him a slight shove to the car. "Get in your car and don't look back. Go."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, but then the girl had pulled out of his grasp and was gone.

Sam contemplated going in to Dean, but he changed his mind when he yawned.

_I'll tell him in the morning._ Sam decided. _Don't wanna ruin his fun with Angie._

Sam resumed his trek to the Impala, and after unlocking it, slid into the drivers seat. He started the car and began driving back to the motel.

0-0-0-0-0

When Sam got to the motel, he quickly entered the room, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. However, once the door was locked and he was lying down, he immediately forgot about it and fell asleep.

0-0-0-0-0

Sam woke up about three am to the door creaking open. "That was quick." He snorted sleepily, rolling away from the door. But there were no footsteps or the witty remark Sam was used to coming from Dean.

"Dean, are you OK?" Sam asked, rolling back over. Before his sleep addled brain could realize that it was not Dean's silhouette in the doorway, the figure was striding quickly across the floor and hitting Sam in the head with the long metal rod it clutched in its fingers.

Sam cried out once and tried to get up, but once the pole hit his head, he slumped back on the bed, unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean waved with a smile as Angie pulled away in her old convertible. Since Sam had taken the Impala the night before, he'd needed a ride to the motel after spending the night at her place and eating breakfast there.

Once she was gone, Dean pulled his room key out of his pocket and unlocked his and Sam's room, whistling. He flicked the light on and relocked the door before realizing that the room was empty. His whistling stopped, and he furrowed his brow.

_Maybe he just went to go get breakfast. _Dean thought worriedly. But a glance through the curtains to the parking lot showed that the Impala was still there, parked in the back corner.

Dean thought back, but couldn't remember there being any diners within at least two miles of the motel.

He looked over at the bed farthest from the door, the one Sam had claimed, and saw that it had been slept in. "Ok..." Dean muttered to himself. "So he's been here."

Dean went closer to the bed to inspect the bed, in case there were any clues to his brother's whereabouts. Dean sucked in his breath when he saw a smattering of blood splattered on the otherwise white sheets. _"Crap."_ Dean hissed, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

He dialed Sam's number, but predictably, only got the answering machine.

0-0-0-0-0

Sam groaned as he regained consciousness. He glanced around briefly, only seeing a bare room with gray walls and a concrete floor with a single door across from him. He put a shaky hand to his head and felt at the bloody lump where he'd been hit with the metal pole.

"Hey, you need to not touch that." Sam looked up, startled and for the first time realized that he wasn't alone in the room. A girl with light brown hair and intent green eyes was watching him from the corner.

"You're...you're the girl from last night." Sam blinked as he pulled himself to a sitting position against the wall.

"Yeah." The girl pushed her long hair over her shoulder and grimaced. "Do you need me to get something for your head?"

"Uh, no." Sam watched her carefully. Her clubbing clothes from the night before were replaced with soft, worn looking jeans and a tank top with an open button down thrown over it. "What's going on?"

"Well..." The girl looked uncomfortable suddenly. "You know about the disappearances, right?"

Sam nodded slowly, relieved that the ache in his head was slowly dying down.

"Ok, so I don't know how much they want me to tell you, but I can at least tell you why you're here." The girl bit her lip and Sam waved her on. "Ok, so Manson, that's the guy you saw me with last night, goes out when we need a new...uh...person..." the girl said carefully, "and picks someone. Usually someone attractive, strong, reliable or whatever. Which is why he picked you."

"Why were you there?" Sam asked as the girl sat down across from him.

"He always brings one of us with him. Depending on whether he wants a boy or a girl that night. You know. As bait." The girl explained. "Then, when he picks who he wants, he waits. Follows them home, then nabs then when they're alone."

"Oh." Sam thought for a moment.

"You know..." The girl squinted at Sam. "You seem to be taking this really well. You've just been kidnapped by people associated with brutal murders, you have a concussion, and you just seem...fine. Are you in shock or something?"

Sam laughed humorlessly. "No, I guess I'm just used to stuff like this, you know?"

The girl smiled nervously. "Uh, no, no I don't. I'm Mia, by the way."

"Ria." Sam frowned as something nagged at his memory. Suddenly it hit him. "You aren't Mia Fallsens, are you? The Mia Fallsens who went missing a couple of weeks ago?"

"Yeah." Mia frowned. "How do you know that?"

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupting by the door swinging open. The man from the night before, Manson, stood there with a pleased grin on his face.

"Oh, I just _know_ that you're going to be one of the survivors." Manson said with dangerous glee.

"What the hell do you want with me?" Sam growled, slowly getting to his feet.

Manson smiled. "I'm giving you the chance of a lifetime." Sam frowned. "The opportunity to be young forever, to have power, money, whatever you want."

"Oh really?" Sam snorted. "And what's in it for you?"

Manson smiled cruelly. "You'll belong to me."

"Like hell I will." Sam snarled.

"Oh, you don't understand, Sam, you _already do_." Manson smiled breezily albeit harshly.

Sam scowled at him and remarked, "Ok, so if I _belong_ to you, then what's keeping me from killing you where you stand?"

Manson sighed like he was asked that question all of the time. He pulled a pistol out of the back of his waistband and pointed it smoothly at Sam's forehead. "Because if you try," He moved the pistol so it was pointed at Mia's forehead. "I shoot her."

Sam froze, but Mia only looked sadly at the floor like she knew it was coming.

"Put the gun down." Sam said earnestly.

"Only if you swear not to cause any trouble." Manson said with a smile. "Or, for that matter, try to attack me or one of the other guards or escape. That includes just planning quietly."

Sam didn't say anything for a moment; he just bit his lip as his eyes darted from Mia to Manson.

"Better hurry up, boy." Manson said. Manson carefully cocked the gun and fingered the trigger.

"Ok fine!" Sam blurted out. "Ok, I swear I won't do or try anything."

"Good." Manson smiled patiently. "Just so you know, if you do try anything, not matter how small, could result in a bullet in her head."

Mia took a deep breath and looked up from the floor to Sam.

"I understand." Sam dropped his eyes. Then something occurred to him. "You said I have an opportunity for everything I could ever want."

Manson nodded. "I did."

"Only an opportunity?"

Manson laughed. "I was wondering when you'd realize that."

"What if I say no?" Sam asked carefully. "You shoot her?"

Manson thought about it. "It isn't really something you could say 'no' to. It's simply you get what I've promised if you survive the next three days, like all of the others who are still alive have."

Sam froze, and watched Mia with big eyes. _What would Dean do?_ Sam thought desperately. _He'd want me to stay alive till he gets here. _"Ok," Sam huffed. "How exactly do I survive?"

Manson smiled. "By doing just that."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"Sam, may I call you Sam?" Manson asked.

"No."

"Sam, I take it upon myself to make sure that I have only the best, the strongest, the smartest under my services. So I arrange a series of tests for you to go through and then survive." Manson explained, leaning against the wall.

"What kind of tests?"

Manson's smile widened. "The kind that are trying to kill you."

0-0-0-0-0

Dean sat on his bed, waiting until he heard a car pull up outside. Just as with every other car he heard, he jumped to his feet and ran to the window. This time, however, he saw Bobby's truck parking in front of the room.

Dean threw the door open and ran over as Bobby got out of the truck.

"Bobby!"

"Ok, Dean, tell me what's going on." Bobby said gruffly as Dean led him back to the room. "What happened last night?"

"Well, Sam and I went to go check out the bar where the latest vic last was, but nothing happened, so Sam came back here and I went home with the...ah...waitress." Dean explained, running his hands through his hair.

"Did anything happen at the bar?" Bobby asked.

"No. No...no wait. There was this guy. He was with this girl...and he bumped into Sam. It happened pretty fast, and I didn't get a good look at him, but he was holding Sam's arm. Then I showed up and he and the girl disappeared." Dean bit his lip. "You don't think that has something to do with this, do you?"

Bobby scoffed. "I think it makes more sense than anything else."

"So what do we do?"

"I say we go back to the bar. Ask around, see if anyone knew either of them. Then we go from there." Bobby sighed.

"Ok." Dean nodded slowly. "Let's go." He got to his feet and made a move toward the door.

"Wait, Dean." Bobby grabbed Dean's sleeve. "The people on shift now probably have never seen this guy before."

"Bobby..." Dean growled. "If you're saying we just wait around to go ask people if they've seen my little brother's kidnapper then-"

"Dean, all I'm saying is that there are other places it would be better to ask." Bobby explained.

"Like where?" Dean pulled his arm away from Bobby and crossed it across from his chest.

"Do you still have that waitress's number?"


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Sorry, I know it's been almost a week, and this is kinda a short one, but I'm trying to get these done and decided I liked where this one ended so I left it at that.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Supernatural characters or anything from the show. This is not for profit or anything, I just find it fun. If anything is familiar, it's probably from the show and I don't own it. If it is familiar and you think it is not from the show, congratulations, you may be psychic.**

* * *

Sam stared at Manson expectantly. "What does that mean, exactly?"

Manson just laughed. "It means exactly what it says, boy. I think I'll let Mia explain further." He turned to her. "You two can wander and you can show him the ropes. Report to the arena at midday for the first test." Manson nodded at Mia, then turned and left the room, leaving the door open behind him.

"You wanna explain what the hell he's talking about?" Sam asked expectantly once he was sure Manson was gone.

Mia sighed. "Let's take a walk." Without warning, she then walked out of the room.

Sam waited for a moment, then ran after her. She hadn't gotten far, so it didn't take long to catch up. "Explain these tests."

Mia nodded. "Yeah, Ok. Basically they aren't tests so much as...well...I guess you could call it a tournament. Only you're the only one entered. There are three matches-fights-a day, and you participate in each one till you either survive all nine in the three days or you lose."

"Who am I up against?" Sam asked carefully.

"Well..." Mia bit her lip. "You're gonna think I'm crazy but..."

"Trust me," Sam snorted, "I won't think you're crazy. I've probably seen much worse."

"The opponents you're against are supernatural creatures." Mia said hurriedly. "I know, I know, it's crazy, but I'm serious. Vampires, werewolves, and what have you." She watched Sam's reaction out of the corner of her eye, but he didn't even seem fazed. "You're taking this pretty well."

"Yeah, I ah, have had run-ins with the supernatural in the past." Sam chuckled to himself.

"Well then you may have a leg up." Mia said sadly. "You have to kill each creature they pit you against. Using whatever tool they give you."

"What happens if I lose?" Sam asked. "They kill me?"

Mia looked uncomfortable. "Yeah. But it can't be a body shot. They have to either crush your skull or break your neck. All organs are to be left in tact. I'm still not entirely sure why..." Mia trailed off and began looking off down the hall as she and Sam walked.

Sam finally took the time to look around. They were in an old looking hallway, in what looked like an old hospital. "So my first match is at noon?" he asked softly.

Mia nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh." Sam looked down at his wrist, only to see that his watch was gone. "What time is it?"

"Just after eleven. So we have time to get some food, then get you down to the arena." Mia said, picking up the pace as she approached a door. "Come on. In here to the food."

0-0-0-0-0

Dean and Bobby were driving as fast as they could to Angie's apartment. She had agreed to meet with them, but couldn't understand what was so urgent.

When they got there Angie was standing on the curb outside waiting. She had on a loose sweater wrapped protectively around herself and leggings. Dean parked and swung out of the driver's seat as soon as the keys were out of the ignition.

Angie's face brightened confidently when she saw Dean.

"Hi, Dean." She said with a grin. The grin faltered slightly when she saw Bobby get out of the passenger, but she regained it quickly. "What brings you back so soon?"

Dean began to speak, but Bobby interrupted him. "We're looking for a guy."

Angie snorted. "You're going to need to be a little more specific than that, old timer."

Bobby scowled, and Dean took over. "He would have been at The Last Stop frequently. At least once every three days." Angie didn't look like any bells were ringing. "Possibly wearing a suit?" Dean added.

Suddenly a light of recognition lit in Angie's eyes. "Yeah, you know what, there is this guy." Upon seeing Dean's look of urgency, she continued on. "He comes in at least three or four times a week. Always wearing a suit, and always with someone else."

"Someone else?" Bobby questioned, confused.

"Yeah..." Angie thought. "Never the same person in a row, always someone young, attractive."

"Did any of them look like these people?" Dean held out the stack of missing people's pictures.

Angie riffled through the stack and bit her lip. "Uh, no...no...no...this one." Angie held out a picture of a girl. "This is the girl he was with last night."

"Mia Fallsens?" Dean read the name on the top of the paper. He turned to Bobby. "She was the first one whose body was never found. She went missing almost two months ago."

"Oh God." Angie went pale. "She was one of the missing people and I didn't...no one...I could have...I didn't know..."

"It's ok, Angie." Dean put a hand on her shoulder. "What else can you tell me about the man?" Angie looked upset and shaken, but Dean needed information. "Please, Angie, it's important. My brother's gone missing, and I need to know."

Angie began visibly shaking, and bit her lip. "Uh, I think I've heard him be called Manson? He always is a pretty big spender at the bar, but only pays in cash." Dean waved her on. "I think he's about your height, but more muscular, you know? Looks like he spends most of his time in a gym, but the suits always still fit perfectly. Looks about...forty five?"

"Ok..." Dean nodded slowly. "Thank you. I'll contact you if I need anything else."

"Please do." Angie nodded forcefully.

"Bye." Dean nodded briskly then sharply turned and got back in the Impala. "Bobby, let's go!"

"Thank you for your time." Bobby smiled slightly, then hurriedly got in the car.

0-0-0-0-0

Just before noon Mia led Sam to a small room. Other than the door leading out into the hall, there was only one way out of the room. It was simply a doorway into a larger room, but the room beyond was dark and there was a pathway surrounded by metal bars leading straight through it to another doorway that led into a bright room. Sam couldn't quite make out what it was out there, but he had a feeling he didn't want to know because there were metal bars covering it.

"What happens now?" Sam asked quietly.

Mia looked uncomfortable. "You wait till they call you. Then you go down that hall and they lift the gate and you go into the arena. They send out the first...um...thing for you to go up against. You have to try to kill it with whatever they have lying around. Then...you just...fight."

Sam looked out at the arena just as a loud, electronic bell rang through the room. Mia flinched, and the gate leading to the arena slid up with a groan.

"Do I...do I go?" Sam asked softly.

"Yeah." Mia nodded. Sam began to move towards the passageway. "Uh, Sam?"

Sam turned to face her. "Yeah?"

Mia looked at the floor. "Good luck."

Sam hesitated, then nodded briskly and turned back toward the arena. He went down the short passage, then through the doorway into the arena.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Sorry it's been so long since the last post! I swear I will try to update it more! Reviews are fantastic and thanks to everyone who has read or followed. :)**

* * *

The arena was really just a large, open warehouse. There was caging around a twenty by twenty space, and a ring of benches around it. Someone slid a grate over the entrance Sam had entered via, and Sam watched the people on the benches. They were sparsely filled, and Sam saw Mia take one of the seats carefully. He was about to wave, but a low growl behind him made him spin.

A large wolf was standing behind grating to a similar entrance to Sam's. "Werewolf." Sam whispered quietly to himself. He glanced frantically around the room, hoping to find some silver. He quickly spotted a large silver shard of metal in the corner and dove for it just as the grating was raised and the werewolf was released into the arena.

It tackled Sam as he was feet from the piece of silver and scratched at his shoulder. Sam yelled as four long scratches opened, but he hit out at the wolf, causing it to momentarily retreat. Sam took the moment to grab for the shard of metal, and when the wolf leapt at him again, he sunk it deep in the wolf's chest.

The wolf sunk to the ground as Sam held at his shoulder. The few people on the benches began clapping softly as the wolf turned to a naked boy, no older than seventeen. The whole fight hadn't lasted more than two minutes.

Suddenly a gate into the audience opened and Manson came through, followed closely by Mia.

"I knew you were a good choice." Manson grinned broadly, and slapped Sam right above his hurt shoulder. Sam cried out softly, and Mia pushed Manson out of the way.

"Asshole! Can't you see he's hurt?" Mia reached out for Sam, but not before Manson grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. He slapped her sharply across the cheek before pulling her closer. He whispered something Sam couldn't hear, then released her.

"Come on, Sam." Mia said quietly. "I'll take you to the med bay."

"Be done in four hours. That's when the next match is." Manson said sternly.

"Yes sir." Mia whispered. She took Sam's hand of the uninjured arm in her own and softly tugged at him.

Sam let himself be led out of the arena as Manson stared at him like he was a prime slab of meat in the butcher shop.

0-0-0-0-0

Dean was close to snapping as he and Bobby went over the town's real estate records one more time.

"Bobby, there is no 'Manson' in here at all, much anywhere with a lot of land. For all we know, he doesn't even live in this state." Dean exclaimed, pushing away from the table.

"Dean, calm down!" Bobby ordered sharply. "You aren't going to help Sam if you shoot the damn maps."

"Bobby...I can't..." Dean moaned as he sank down on one of the beds in the motel room he had been sharing with Sam, now Bobby.

"Boy, you listen to me..." Bobby trailed off as something caught his attention.

"Bobby?" Dean looked up. "What is it?"

"I may have found something. Come here." Dean jumped up and came over to the map Bobby was looking at.

"What?"

"All of this..." Bobby waved his hand over almost a square mile in the industrial district, "is abandoned. It is also all owned privately."

"So?" Dean asked. "It's not unusual for people to keep their land when their company goes bankrupt."

"Ah but this was all bought just over two months ago. There are about sixteen buildings, and each is owned by a different man. But..." Bobby ruffled through some papers. "Each building was sold within three days."

Dean frowned and studied the papers. "Where is this?"

"From what I can tell, just on the outskirts of town." Bobby scratched his chin absently.

"Let's go."

0-0-0-0-0

Sam winced as Mia poked the needle through his skin for the last time. "There. All done." Mia tied off the thread and snipped it. "Only needed a few stitches, and even those were just to be safe. You got off easy this time."

"Thanks." Sam frowned at the now clean scrapes on his shoulder.

"Don't thank me yet." Mia chuckled. She grabbed a bottle of clear liquid from the table and a short plastic rod.

"What's-" Sam was cut off as Mia shoved the rod in his mouth.

"You may want to bite down." Mia suggested before uncorking the bottle and pouring the liquid over the werewolf scratch.

Sam cried out while biting down on the rod, resulting in a strained noise. Mia re-corked the alcohol and took the rod out of Sam's mouth.

"Now you can thank me." Mia smirked.

Sam grimaced and shot her a glare. Mia just laughed. "I had to clean it. Those werewolves aren't exactly known for hygiene, you know?"

Sam chuckled, but then looked at Mia carefully.

"Mia?"

"Hmm?" Mia began to clean up the medical supplies.

"What did Manson say to you as we were leaving?"

Mia froze, and her shoulders slumped. She began repacking the medical supplies.

"I'm sorry if I over stepped my bounds..." Sam amended quickly.

"No...no..." Mia sighed. "You should probably know." She finished putting everything in the cabinets. "He reminded me of what happened the last time I spoke back to him." Sam opened to ask what happened, but she beat him to it. "His name was Mike. I think his last name was Lists or something like that."

"Lister..." Sam whispered.

"He'd taken a nasty blow to the head the match before his last, so I told Manson that he shouldn't be forced to fight the last fight. That he should just...wait on it, you know?" Mia turned back to Sam and leaned on the counter behind her, her eyes tearing up. "I started fighting with him about it, and it ended with me hitting him. He was so angry." Mia held a hand to her face.

"I didn't know what he was going to do." Mia cried softly, beginning to sob. "I didn't think about it."

"What did he do?" Sam asked quietly.

"Right before Mike went out for his last match, Manson gave him a shot. I didn't know what it was." Mia was having trouble talking through her sobs. "When Mike got out there though, it was clear. It was some drug. Made it impossible for him to fight. The wendigo...I think...snapped his neck. He didn't have a chance and it was my fault." Mia began to slide, but Sam jumped up and grabbed her. "He could have lived, but he didn't because of me. I killed him." Mia sobbed.

"No...no..." Sam soothed, stroking Mia's back. "It wasn't your fault. You were trying to protect him, he knew that."

"I'm becoming one of them!" Mia sobbed.

"No...no...never..."

"Sam, one of the vamps, he didn't want to fight, he begged me-_begged me _-not to kill him, but it was my last fight, I was so close, I didn't even think, I just beheaded him without a word." Mia cried.

"You did what you had to to survive." Sam whispered quietly.

"Sam..." Mia pulled out of his grasp. "You don't understand." She wiped the tears off of her face and watched him intently.

"What?"

"No matter how hard you try, unless you die here, you will wind up a monster, just like them."

0-0-0-0-0

Dean whistled, slightly impressed. He and Bobby were on the roof of one of the buildings next to the sixteen that they were investigating. They were arranged in an almost grid pattern, four by four. The twelve on the outskirts were the tallest, and made it hard for Dean and Bobby to see through to the inner four.

But from their perspective, they could see what they were up against. Most of the roads between the buildings were covered in so much junk and old abandoned cars that you almost couldn't notice that they were hiding a ten-foot cement wall with a deep trench in front of it between each building at the back unless you were looking for it.

The buildings outside all had boarded up windows and locked and blocked doors. The only way into the compound was through a single road that while mostly blocked, had a space just large enough for a truck to fit through in the wall. After watching it for almost two hours, they had seen multiple cars come out, and a couple go in. But every time a car had to go in, they would stop before entering the gate and two people in dark clothes came from the corners of the wall and spoke to the driver.

Sometimes the driver was let through, others, the car was sent away.

"Shit." Bobby whispered softly through his teeth. "Well, I think we can confirm Sam is in there..."

Dean growled softly, and scowled at the only entrance to getting


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I'm sorry it's been forever since I've last updated this. I wish I could say that I have an excuse, but I don't. My humblest apologies.**

* * *

Sam wiped the sweat off of his brow as he was let out of the arena. He had just won his third match, and the vampire was lying on the ground behind him with its head on fire a few feet away. He hadn't seen Mia since she led him to the arena for his third match, still upset from her confession about her last kill.

She hadn't stayed to watch the match, and after Sam had wandered until he found the kitchen where he and Mia had gotten food before. It was basically just a food storage room, with shelves of food, a fridge with some pre-made meals, and a microwave. He'd heated himself up a small bowl of spaghetti, and taken it with him to go find the arena again for his last match of the day.

He'd gotten to the small waiting room long before he was needed, so he left his bowl in the room and left to go explore. He didn't go far, for fear that he'd get lost on his way back, but he was pretty sure that the building he was staying in was a different one from the arena. The arena loosed like a big open wear house, and he was under the impression that the building he spent most of his time in was an old medical clinic of some kind.

All of what should have been windows were boarded up and there were no doors out that Sam could find, only doors to random empty rooms, some stained red with blood. It was slightly dirty, but not extremely so. There were no stairs that he could find.

When Sam got back to the waiting room, it was almost time to go out, so he'd just waited until it was time to go out.

0-0-0-0-0

Now Sam was trying to find the infirmary again. He still couldn't find Mia anywhere, so he was hoping she would be there.

He eventually found it and made a mental note of the path he took to get there. Mia wasn't there, and Sam felt a sudden burst of loneliness.

He left the room, and tried the door next to it. It had a lone mattress lying on the floor, and it looked relatively clean, so Sam approached it wearily. He pulled the door shut behind him, then curled up on the mattress and tried to sleep.

0-0-0-0-0

Bobby and Dean were back looking at the maps of the area. Dean had Sam's laptop next to him and was researching the four buildings in the middle to see what they had been to try to get a little more information on where Sam could be.

"Check the building in the back left corner from the entrance." Bobby called. "Earlier it sounded like most of the traffic went back there."

"Uh ok..." Dean typed for a few moments on the keyboard and pulled something up. "Just an old wear house." Dean called.

"Anything interesting about the aerial view?"

"Ummm..." Dean pulled up the map site he'd been using with the satellite feature. Luckily, the site had just updated the satellite pictures a month ago so everything was recent. "Yeah... come here."

Bobby got up and came around behind Dean. "What is it?"

Dean zoomed in on the space between the wear house and the building next to it in the back of the compound. "There's something connecting the two buildings. Looks like... a hallway or something."

"Maybe they just use it so they aren't seen by the satellite." Bobby suggested.

"No... I don't think so..." Dean zoomed out again. "Look. None of these other buildings are connected at all, and you can see some people out walking." Dean pointed to a couple of dots that were people caught by the satellite. "So obviously they trust people to be out and about, but for some reason, if someone goes between these two buildings, they don't trust them."

"You think they're using it to control someone's movements?" Bobby asked.

Dean grunted his affirmation while quickly searched the building the wear house was connected to. "Ok, so it looks like this building was a medical clinic back when this area was still worked in. Anyone hurt while working would go over there. These buildings," Dean pulled the satellite up again and pointed to the two front buildings of the compound, "were headquarters for the companies that operated in the area. Both have at least six or seven stories."

"So you think they're holding Sam in either the wear house or the clinic?" Bobby asked.

"Probably the clinic." Dean half-guessed. "If all of those people keep going there, maybe they bring him in at the same time."

Bobby nodded. "Good work, boy."

Dean grimaced, not entirely in the mood for a compliment. "We need to find a way into the compound. Sam probably needs us sooner rather than later."

0-0-0-0-0

When Sam woke up, he felt reasonably better than he had when he'd gone to bed. His shoulder was burning, so he decided to go check the infirmary for painkillers.

He groaned as he lifted himself to his feet, and then realized that the door was open. There was a tray in the doorway with a plate of pancakes, a glass of what looked like orange juice, and a small pocket watch lying on top of a folded piece of paper.

He slid the paper out from under the watch, and opened it.

"You seem to be finding your way around quite easily now. That's good. Enjoy breakfast and be in the waiting room before noon. Day one is over, only two to go. Good luck. –Manson."

Sam crumpled up the paper and tried to breath through his nose in order to quell the rage that was bubbling in his stomach.

He checked the pocket watch and saw that it was already 11:30. He scarfed down the pancakes as quickly and safely as possible, then guzzled the juice and staggered to his feet.

He jogged to the waiting room so he'd be on time.

0-0-0-0-0

Dean and Bobby spent the day observing the compound from as close as they could get; on a rooftop across from the entrance gate. A couple hours after the sun was gone, there were no more cars leaving or entering through the gate and Dean had an idea forming in his mind.

"Hey, Bobby, do you think they blocked off the sewers?"

Bobby considered it. "I think it's worth a shot at least."

"Ok, then." Dean pushed up onto his knees. "You go get some flash lights, guns, and whatever from the Impala. I'll find the closest sewer grate."

Bobby paused. "You aren't planning on going in alone, are you?"

Dean shot Bobby a look. "Don't be stupid. Of course I'm not. Why would I do that?"

Bobby looked as if Dean had slapped him. "Your were. You idjit, you think I'm going to let you do that?"

"He's my brother, Bobby." Dean growled. "I told him to go home early, left him unprotected. He only just got back into hunting. This is my fault. I'm going in for him, alone."

"You boys are like family to me too, you know." Bobby scowled. "I've risked my hide for you more times than I can count, I'm not stopping now!"

"I need to do this, Bobby, alone." Dean grimaced.

"Why?" Bobby yelled. "Why do you think you need to do everything alone?"

"Because Dad expected me to!" Dean roared.

Bobby reeled back. "Dean-"

"No! He left me, obviously he thinks I should be able to take care of things! I can't let him down again!"

"Dean." Bobby looked at the boy who was like his son gently. "Hunters are never alone. When there's a hard job, they always call in backup. It's what I'm here for now. That's why you called me."

Dean looked at Bobby with pain in his eyes. "Bobby, I brought Sam back into the life. I have to get him out."

Bobby nodded gruffly. "And I'm going to be right there with you. Now let's go."

0-0-0-0-0

Sam limped away from his last fight of the second day. He was convinced that his ankle was sprained from the fight he'd just gone through with a wendigo. He barely made it to the waiting room before collapsing into a chair with a pained cry.

"I will not let them see my pain." He whispered through gritted teeth. He pulled the leg of his jeans up and pulled his boot off only to suck in air through his teeth, producing a faint whistling noise.

It was definitely swollen, and if he was going to be able to fight the next day, he'd need to get a compression sleeve on it soon. He didn't bother putting the boot back on, just held it limply by the laces as he staggered to his feet.

He half hopped, half limped out and through the halls to the infirmary where he found a compression sleeve for it. He pulled his belt out of the loops, folded it over, and slid it between his teeth.

He bit down hard as he pulled the sleeve over his ankle and took a deep breath, releasing the belt once it was on.

"Sam?"

Sam looked up and saw Mia standing in the doorway, her hands pressed tight across her stomach and covered in blood.

"Mia!" Sam jumped up and moved to run to her, but she interrupted him by collapsing.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm regretting this plan." Dean grimaced as he covered his nose. His flashlight lit the dim sewer and he peered down the tunnel that led into the compound.

"Well, this may be our only option." Bobby said gruffly as he began to descend the ladder into the sewer after Dean. "We need to just keep moving."

Dean groaned. He smacked his flashlight on his hand as it started to flicker out. "You're right. Let's go get Sam."

The two men began slowly trudging down the small ledge next to the ravine where the smell was coming from.

"How far do you think we need to go?" Dean asked, turning to glance at Bobby.

Bobby shrugged. "I don't know. On the satellite image it looked like there were two manholes in the compound; one smack dab in the middle, and the other in the far corner near the clinic."

"Well, then I'd say we go for the clinic one." Dean smiled confidently. "If we're lucky we can just slip out and into the clinic, grab Sammy, and be gone before anyone knows what happened."

"When have we ever been lucky?" Bobby scoffed.

"Good point." Dean sobered.

They proceeded down the tunnel and turned the corner of the tunnel that should lead them to the clinic manhole.

"There." Dean jogged ahead and looked up at the manhole that let the soft morning light filter down into the sewer.

"Careful, ya idjit. Won't do you any good to fall into the sewer water." Bobby reprimanded softly.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Dean ignored him. He looked up at the manhole cover. "We're going to need to get that up."

"Huh." Bobby thought. "You want to go up first, or should I?"

"I'll do it." Dean grunted, climbing the ladder to where he was bent under it. "Hold my legs steady."

"You got it." Bobby wrapped his arms around Dean's shins and held him against the ladder rungs as Dean began to push the manhole cover up.

Dean grunted as it moved up just a smidge and he managed to get it propped up on the side of the hole.

"I almost got it." Dean grunted as he pushed it further off of the hole.

Bobby heard the unmistakable cocking of a gun from up on the street, and he heard Dean mutter "Oh, shit."

0-0-0-0-0

Sam sat watching Mia carefully. After she had collapsed, he'd pulled her up onto the medical exam table. Her button down shirt had been buttoned sloppily, with all the buttons in the wrong places. There was blood staining through it, and Sam had decided that he needed to check for any open wounds.

After ensuring that she had a pulse and was breathing, he'd carefully unbuttoned her shirt, leaving on her bra to allow her some semblance of dignity when she woke back up.

There were neat surgical cuts in the shape of a large "Y" all across her chest, done as if in an autopsy. They were still bleeding mildly through the neat stiches that seemed to be the only thing holding her abdomen together.

After carefully cleaning her wounds to ensure that there would be no infections, Sam had re-buttoned her shirt and let her rest, checking her breath and pulse every five minutes or so.

The sun was beginning to rise now, and Sam knew that if he didn't get any sleep soon, then he wouldn't be able to fight at all that day. He grabbed a delicate looking glass cup and carefully perched it next to Mia's hand on the table so that if she moved at all, it would fall, shatter, and thus wake him up.

He moved to the room next door with the mattress and drug it back into the clinic, all the while limping on his hurt ankle. He put it close to Mia, and carefully laid down on it.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, he heard a commotion in the hall. He began to get up just as Manson stalked through the door, flanked by a couple of guards.

"I should have known she'd be in here." Manson scowled.

There were muffled grunts coming from the hall, and Sam made a move to pass Manson.

"Uh du duh." Manson grabbed his arm and shoved him back into the room.

"What do you want?" Sam growled.

Manson looked him up and down. "I've decided something. I'm going to let you bypass the last day of testing. You have proved yourself worthy, and I don't want to loose you just because of that ankle of yours."

"You didn't answer my question." Sam backed protectively in front of Mia.

"I guess I didn't." Manson sighed, his entire demeanor relaxing. "It's time for you to be initiated as one of us."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked carefully.

"It's a spell." Manson smiled. "It makes you, well, more or less, immortal." His smile widened. "It makes you stronger. Faster. Smarter. _Better._" After a pause he continued. "It will also, once completed, install in you a sense of duty to he who cast the spell, which will be me."

Sam thought for a moment. "So then what did you do to Mia?" Sam questioned.

"Well." Manson grimaced. "That's the only flaw with the spell. The nature of the spell is black magic in origin, so to subject the human body to it kills all inner organs immediately, excepting the heart. So, in order to keep our specimens running smoothly, we have to replace the organs. We have to replace them immediately, or else they die."

"The dead bodies." Sam whispered.

"Exactly." Manson looked like he approved.

"But...there were more bodies than people missing." Sam's brow furrowed.

"Another complication." Manson's mouth twisted. "If the organs aren't compatible and don't take, they will whither away and rot. So we keep trying until we find a set that matches."

"And Mia..."

"Is currently wearing that Lister boy." Manson grinned widely.

"So you can't do anything to me yet." Sam said surely.

"Oh?" Manson's eyebrows shot up. "And why is that?"

"You don't have a replacement for my organs." Sam stood straight. "If you do the spell now, my organs whither, and I die."

Manson laughed. "Boy, I already have organs for you. And I can guarantee you, they won't be rejected."

Suddenly three more guards came through the door, between them holding a bound, gagged, and struggling Dean.

"After all, a blood relation will be much more likely to be accepted by your body."


	7. Chapter 7

**I swear, I'm writing as often as I can. I'll try to pick up the pace... School's just been busy and whatever right now. Grr! I have no time for writing!**

* * *

After the announcement that Sam would soon be wearing Dean's organs, all hell broke loose. Sam launched himself at Manson and Dean head butted one of the two guards holding him.

Neither of their attacks was very successful.

All Dean was rewarded with was a headache, seeing as the man he'd attacked didn't even flinch. Sam was less lucky.

Manson had expertly grabbed Sam's wrist and simultaneously swung him around while slamming a foot down onto his injured ankle with a resounding _crack_. Sam went down with a sharp cry and ended up on his knees.

Dean called out what vaguely sounded like Sam's name around the gag, but his guards pulled him back and almost out of the room until Manson signaled for them to stop.

He kept his hold on Sam's wrist as Sam stared up at him murderously.

"Take that one to the surgery room." Manson said coldly. "Get him prepped and ready. Then come back for this one."  
"Yes sir." One man mumbled, staring at the floor before they pulling Dean, who was yelling what could have been curses at Manson, out and away.

"Sam." Manson released his wrist and took a few steps to the door. "You don't need to fight this, you know. I really am helping you in the long run."

"Helping isn't murdering." Sam growled, wrapping one hand protectively around his ankle.

Manson sighed. "I am sorry about your ankle, son."

"Don't call me that." Sam snarled.

Manson continued as if Sam hadn't spoken. "If all goes well, it should be perfectly healed when you next wake up. When they come to get you, please don't fight them. This can either be quick and painless for your brother, or _extremely _slow and painful."

Manson turned to leave.

"Wait!" Sam called out suddenly. Manson looked at him over his shoulder. Sam bit his lip, seeing only one way out. "Use me. Dean's a better fighter, and he'll be better bait for more, I promise you. Everyone loves Dean. Take my," Sam choked on the word, "organs. Let him live. I promise you, he's better than I am."

Manson gave Sam an appraising glance. "No. He isn't. I don't know what it is about you boy, but your..._special_."

Sam recoiled as if slapped.

"I can feel it on you. You have something else about you. I felt it the moment I bumped into you in that bar." He smiled devilishly. "You'll serve me well."

Sam was left speechless as Manson left, swinging the door shut and effectively sealing Sam in the room.

"Sam?" Sam turned and saw Mia watching him from the table. "What just happened?"

"Did you really just now wake up?" Sam grumbled, rubbing his hands through his hair.

"No." Mia admitted. "I've been awake since he was talking about...ahh...your brother."

Sam sighed. "My brother came to rescue me," he said half-heartedly, "and got himself captured in the process. Now Manson's jumping ahead a few steps to turning me into one of you using his...his..." Sam trailed off.

"He wants to kill your brother." Mia said softly. They were both silent for a moment. "I'm sorry," she said finally.

"Don't be. I'll figure something out," Sam stared at the ceiling. "We always do."

Mia bit her lip. "Sam, I'm sorry, but I don't see what you can do. Even if you do manage to get your brother free, Manson will track you down. You heard what he said. You're special. He wants you, and bad. He isn't going to let you go that easily."

"Then I'll kill him." Sam spat.

"Sam..." Mia warned.

"What? Are you going to tell me that I can't? That it's impossible?"

"No." Mia bit her lip and looked like she was upset about something.

"So what then?"

Mia looked down at herself, at the big Y that marred her chest. She took a deep breath and when she looked up, there was a steely resolve in her eyes. "There is a way to kill him."

"What?" Sam looked up at her suddenly.

"There's a way to kill him." Mia insisted. "And when he dies, everyone connected to him will die with him."

Sam looked startled. "Won't that kill you then?"

"No." Mia said quickly. I think I should be fine. These organs won't take, I can feel it. That means I'm not connected to him yet. He still needs to try again."

"You can feel if the organs will work or not?" Sam asked dubiously.

"Of course I can." Mia said with a smirk. Then her face turned somber. "They've all felt this way."

"Oh." Sam breathed. "So what do I need to do?"

"The heart." Mia smiled quirkily. "It's all that keeps him truly alive right now. Destroy that, and he goes with it."

0-0-0-0-0

Dean was having a bad day. First they snagged him the second he got into the compound, then he was informed that he was about to be gutted to give his little brother immortality, then said little brothers ankle was clearly broken, and now he was being strapped down to a medical table.

There was another table next to him, that one empty and awaiting his brother. He grimaced as they pulled a leather strap tight over his only wrist. He had attempted to fight back, but they were abnormally strong. He didn't stand a chance. The man grabbed the front of his t-shirt, the rest of his over clothes having been removed, and ripped it clear down the front.

"Oh come on, you really should buy me dinner first." Dean smiled snarkily.

The man looked at Dean snidely. "When Manson comes, you won't be so confident. When he straps that little brother of yours to the table. You know he opens up the new host first. He empties them out, lets them scream, then performs the ritual once their dead. Manson'll let you watch the whole thing."

Dean growled and pulled at his restraints.

"It'll probably take some time to break him you know. Once he's is turned over to Manson. He seems strong. Before Manson can take complete control, your brother's will will have to break." The man smirked. "That brother of yours is a cute one, aint he? Maybe Manson'll let me help break him..."

Dean roared wordlessly. "I'll kill you, you asshole!"

The man laughed. "You could try. That is, if you weren't about to be slaughtered."

Dean snarled and pulled at his restraints futilely.

0-0-0-0-0

"Sam?" Sam followed Mia's eyes to the doorway. The guards were there, each looking smug yet bored.

"It's time."


	8. Chapter 8

**One benefit of babysitting now that there's technology to occupy the children, you can just sit at the table and write so long as you keep a general eye on them and check on them every now and then. I got the next chapter done! Hoorah for productive evenings.**

* * *

"Where's Manson?" Sam asked stiffly, trying to hide the screwdriver that he held behind his back.

"Getting ready," one waved his hand vaguely. "We've been sent to take you to the operating room." He smiled suddenly. "Get you all ready."

"Oh." Sam looked down at his ankle, trying to distract them as he slid the screwdriver up his sleeve. "How exactly do you expect me to go anywhere?"

One of the guards rolled his eyes, strolled into the room, and slung Sam up and over his shoulder.

"Hey!" Sam protested and tried to get off. "Put me down."

"Quit struggling, kid." The guard grabbed his ankle and Sam grit his teeth in an attempt to hold in a groan and stopped struggling. "That's better," he chuckled. Then he began to carry Sam out of the room.

"Wait, what about Mia?" Sam tried to maintain dignity from his spot draped over the man's shoulder.

"She's staying here. She's still recovering from her latest surgery." The other man smirked.

"I feel fine." Mia piped up quietly, earning herself a glare from the men.

"How are we supposed to know you won't throw a wrench in Manson's plans? You've been fighting this every step of the way," the man growled.

Mia smirked cruelly, and Sam watched her wearily. "You know what happens when the organs catch. My will is his now."

The man who wasn't carrying Sam looked suspicious. "Mia, your will is strong. It would not break so soon after the process is complete."

Mia harrumphed. "I was tired of fighting. I was _tired_, Levi. I was ready for it to be over. I knew it would all be over eventually. Why fight it anymore?"

Sam was starting to get worried. What if Mia's transplant _had _taken?

Levi raised an eyebrow, still slightly doubtful. "Fine. If it means that much to you to see this one die, you may come." Sam looked at him, startled. "Oh, cool your jets. You'll be coming back a few minutes later."

"Finally." Mia's smile widened. She hopped off of the surgical table and after faltering slightly, stood up straight. "Let's go then."

Levi sighed then gestured to the man holding Sam. "Come on." Levi started out of the room as the other man began to follow and Mia fell in behind.

Once the two goons had their backs turned, Mia gave Sam a reassuring smile and a quick thumbs up. Sam let out the breath that he had been holding in.

"Screwdriver?" Mia mouthed silently.

Sam held his arm up slightly, moving his hand enough that she could see the screwdriver that was hiding up his sleeve. Mia smiled encouragingly and Sam closed his eyes, concerned about what was coming.

0-0-0-0-0

When the brutes came in with Sam, Dean began struggling again. Sam's ankle looked worse than it had before. It was swelling around the compression sleeve that had been on it before it was broken. It looked like it was at least doing some work to keep the appendage immobile, but the skin above and below it was purple and black with bruising.

The man carrying Sam pushed in front of the other man, leaving the girl trailing behind in the doorway. He threw Sam down on the table, not being careful of his ankle, causing Sam to grunt.

"Oh, get over it," the man laughed. "It'll be healed soon." He began to strap Sam's wrists and ankles down to the table, including the broken one.

Sam gasped and paled as his ankle was aggravated.

"Hey, asshole! Careful!" Dean yelled over, pulling at the restraints in vain. The man just laughed softly as he backed away from Sam, who had yet to regain the color in his face.

The man who had taunted Dean earlier smirked from the corner he'd backed in to. Dean recognized the girl in the doorway as the one who'd been lying on the table in the room where he'd seen Sam earlier, seemingly dead. She slowly walked up to Sam and looked into his face curiously.

She leaned in close and Dean fought to get to them to get her away from him. She whispered something in his ear, and Dean could barely see Sam whisper the word "right." Dean's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what they were talking about. Suddenly the girl had hopped up onto the table and was straddling Sam.

Sam had an odd, disgusted look on his face, like he wasn't quite sure what to do. The girl planted her hands on Sam's wrists and smiled.

"You'll be one of us soon, sweetheart. There's nothing you can do about it. Once Manson sticks you with his knife he's going to pull your organs out one by one, in the order that will let you live the longest so you can feel. Every. Minute. Of it."

The girl held out her hand and one of the beefy looking guys held out a pair of scissors to her. "I hope you aren't a fan of this shirt." She smiled as she began cutting up it with her right hand, starting at the waist.

Dean started to get an idea of what was happening. The entire time that the girl had been on top of Sam, her hand had not moved from his right wrist. Which just happened to be the word Sam had whispered to her. To keep up appearances, Dean maintained struggling, which wasn't hard, seeing as he needed to get himself and Sam out of there.

"Mia." A new voice spoke from the doorway. The man who'd broken Sam's ankle was standing there, motionless. "Would you mind hopping off of our new ally?"

Mia's lower lip slipped out into a pout and she slid off of Sam. She then retreated back to the wall.

"Manson." Sam growled.

"Now Sam, I'm going to walk you through what's about to happen." The man, now identified as Manson, stalked forward until he was hovering over Sam. Sam stared stonily up at the ceiling.

"First, I'm going to take this knife." Manson pulled a knife out of a sheath in his belt. He toyed with it for a moment then placed it lightly on the top of Sam's chest. "Then I'm going to cut you open," he softly ran the blade of the knife down Sam, "and remove your organs one by one. Slowly. In a specific order that will allow you to remain alive till the very last moment.

"Then, once you've screamed till your vocal chords have burst, all of the blood that's poured out of you will lead to your death. And then the last thing your mortal eyes will see, the last thing your mortal life will know will be me stabbing your brother and cutting him open just like I did to you.

"Then, once he's dead and all of his juicy insides are inside of you, I will sew you back up and preform the spell. When you awake, you will be almost mine. I just have to break you. But then again..." Manson laughed, "maybe the knowledge that you caused your own brother's death will do it for me."

At this, Sam surged up from where he rested on the table. His right arm fell away from the table and he pointed it down and flexed his wrist. A screwdriver fell out which he promptly thrust into Manson's chest.

The men around the room surged forwards as Manson stumbled back, but stopped as he held out a hand. Sam froze from where he sat on the table, one hand still strapped down and one hanging by his side. Mia looked hopeful from where she stood.

Manson regarded the handle of the screwdriver where it comically protruded from his chest. Dean could tell that based on Sam's aim and how deep the screwdriver had been buried in Manson's chest that it had punctured his heart.

Dean was about to whoop for Sam when Manson grasped the handle and slowly pulled the screwdriver out of his chest. It was slicked with blood and blood was staining in a little circle around the hole on Manson's shirt.

Instead of falling over dead as Dean hoped he would, Manson began to laugh. "Sam, Sam, Sam..." Manson ran his finger down the screwdriver and then stabbed it into Sam's inner forearm. Sam called out.

"It was a nice try. But you used the wrong weapon." Manson twirled his knife in his fingers. "And now that your one and only plan has failed, there's nothing you can do."


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! It's summer and this is just about the end of the story, so I'm going to try to wrap this up and post some more stories. I have a short one that I believe it's somewhere in my backpack, I just need to type it up. Thanks to everyone who's put up with my sporadic posting.**

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Sam struggled as Manson began to lower the knife to his chest, but the screwdriver in his arm was making focusing difficult.

"You don't want to do this." Sam tried one last time to argue with him. "If this does what you say it will, then I'll be stronger. I'll be able to fight you. I'll kill you."

Manson laughed. "I'd like to see you try, boy. Most of my creations have tried. They all fail. It's inevitable." He brandished the knife with a smirk. "Now please, try to stay still. This will all be much harder if you're struggling the entire time."

Sam looked helplessly at Dean, who was also struggling as much as he could.

"Now, what I usually do first is open your major arteries. Get the blood pumping." Manson looked at the screwdriver in Sam's arm, where blood had begun to well and drip down the side. "Let's start by unplugging this, shall we?" He gripped the handle and none too gently ripped it out of Sam's arm, turning and pivoting it all the while.

Sam screamed as he felt the screwdriver rip through muscle and tissue in his arm. The blood began to flow out of the wound more freely, and the pain doubled. "That's not quite enough..." Manson muttered to himself. He took the knife and dragged it down the inside of Sam's other arm.

"Sam!" Dean yelled as Sam cried out in pain. "Sam!"

"Dean!" Sam groaned.

"Now... I think we're ready to begin. Tell me, Dean, are you ready to watch your brother's heart stop beating?"

"You sick sonofa-"

"Language, Dean! Language!" Manson chuckled. "I think we can all be civil, no?"

"I'll be civil when you're dead." Dean growled. "Sam, you with me?"

"Dean, can you please have a pissing contest with the evil guy when I'm not bleeding out?" Sam muttered with a slight smile.

"I don't know, Sammy. I think this is the perfect time!" Dean smirked furiously at Manson.

"I can see that you two will just be aggravating until you're both dead," Manson muttered. "So I think it's time to get this show on the road." He pressed the tip of the knife to the top of Sam's chest and pressed in slightly.

Sam gritted his teeth and struggled to hold in a cry of pain as blood began to pool around the knife.

"Wait!" a voice called from the side of the room. Mia stepped forward.

"Mia, what could you possibly want now?" Manson snarled.

"I want to do it." She smiled oddly.

Manson tilted his head. "You want to do what?"

"I want to be the one to cut him open. Isn't that a tradition of yours? Let the newbie cut the next one open? I thought it was a right of passage, or something. I want to get my chance to do it too." Mia slowly came forward to plead with Manson. "I want to do it."

Sam searched Mia's eyes. "Mia, don't do this. Please. Not you."

"Shut up, Sam." She smiled dangerously. "You'll thank me when this is over."

Manson looked at Sam, pondering the situation. "It seems, Sammy," Sam struggled at the use of the nickname, "that it would hurt you so much more if Mia were to be the one to cut you open." He spun the knife through his fingers. "Of course, you may not touch his organs," he instructed Mia. "You may just...open the wrapping paper, as it were."

Mia grinned. "That's all I'm asking for."

"Mia..." Sam pleaded while Dean watched helplessly.

Mia stepped forward and grabbed a knife off a table nearby. "Shall I begin where you did?" She lowered the knife to Sam's chest.

"No!" Manson stopped her just before the knife touched him. Mia looked confused, and the knife hovered for a moment. "You have to use this knife." Manson handed the knife from his sheath to her.

She took it and gently rotated it in her hands. "Why?"

He gritted his teeth. "Does it matter?"

Mia held up the knife she was about to use. "I'm more used to this kind of knife. I would be more comfortable using it."

Sam and Dean realized what she was doing simultaneously. She was testing Manson, trying to get him to admit that the knife he had been holding was significant.

Manson realized his mistake almost as soon as they did. He reached out for the knife, intending to snatch it back from Mia. But in doing so, he left himself wide open for attack.

Mia dropped Manson's knife into Sam's waiting hand and slashed at the inside of Manson's reaching arm with the knife she still held. Sam reared his arm up, ignoring the pain that flared in his arm as he did so and plunged the knife into Manson's heart.

Everything froze in that moment. The men at the door stopped rushing forward, Dean stopped struggling, and Manson and Sam both froze in the roles of killer and corpse.

"You...little...bastard!" Manson seethed. Sam's hand dropped off the knife as blood began to slowly dribble out of his mouth. The men at the door dropped to the ground as if a switch had gone off in their heads.

The blood on Manson's shirt spread and blood began to trickle out of his nose and from his eyes as well as the blood coming from his mouth. He began shaking and he bent over around the knife that was imbedded in his chest.

"Bastard," he hissed one last time.

Manson finally died and fell to the ground alongside his men.

"Well that was... fast." Sam muttered as he stared at the dead men on the floor.

"Sam..." Dean whispered. "Mia."

Sam looked down at the floor next to the table. Mia was on the floor as if she had simply collapsed. "Mia! Mia!"

"Can you reach her?" Dean asked quietly.

"No," Sam groaned. "I can't feel my arm!"

"Ok, that's ok." Dean soothed. "We'll figure it out. It's going to be fine."

"Dean, tell me how it's going to be ok!" Sam yelled. "I'm bleeding out and we're both strapped down to tables! How can we possi-"

"Sam!" Dean stopped him.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Listen!" Dean ordered sharply.

The two sat there silently for a moment, listening as quietly as possible.

"Dean, I don't think..." Sam began, but was cut off by a voice yelling his name from far away. Sam's brow wrinkled. "Was that..."

"Bobby!" Dean yelled. "Bobby we're here!"

"Wait, Bobby? When did Bobby get here?" Sam asked.

"Oh, uh, I guess I didn't get a chance to tell you." Dean laughed softly. "You disappeared, and I didn't have any signs to where you are. So,"

Bobby ran into the room, looking breathless.

"I called in reinforcements." Dean looked proud of himself.

"What did you two idjits do? There are people lying dead all over the place. I was trying to sneak in, and I got spotted, but just as they were closing in on me they all just dropped. So what the happened?" Bobby asked as he tried to catch his breath.

He just then looked around the room. "What the hell happened in here?"


End file.
